


tricks, trust and fairy dust

by chanshine



Category: NCT (Band), WAYV
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Urban Fantasy, Boys Kissing, Dancing, Domestic Fluff, Eating, Fae & Fairies, Fairies, Fairy Liu Yang Yang, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Gentle Kissing, Glitter, Interspecies, Interspecies Relationship(s), Interspecies Romance, Kissing, Liu Yang Yang-centric, M/M, Mentioned WayV Ensemble, Minor Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul | Ten/Qian Kun, Performance Art, Performing Arts, Pet Names, Photography, Roommates, Rough Kissing, Self-Doubt, Sirens, Succubi & Incubi, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Wings, xiaohenyang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-31
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:13:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 16,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27299215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chanshine/pseuds/chanshine
Summary: 5 times yangyang (narrowly) manages to hide his identity and the one time they find out his secret.except it isn't the right one.
Relationships: Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery, Liu Yang Yang/Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Liu Yang Yang/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun, Wong Kun Hang | Hendery/Xiao De Jun | Xiao Jun
Comments: 12
Kudos: 210





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i split this into two parts because of a little time skip. also this is just me shamelessly contributing to the fairy yangyang agenda.
> 
> [twitter](https://twitter.com/SH10NSHINE)  
> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/SH10NSHINE)

1.

the sound of shoes squeaking against the wooden floor, sharp breaths and booming music all fill the room. beads of sweat trail down yangyang's forehead and drip down his bare torso. the harsh LED lights frame their graceful forms reflected by the mirror spanning an entire wall of the room; to him, being as kinetic as this is invigorating. the way he cuts through the air with sharp pops in the choreography, the way his partner extends his movements to fill the space with a commanding presence, the way he feels so _free_ and unconstrained makes his translucent wings flutter happily just a tad bit more energetic than the performance demanded. it’s not like the finer details mattered for now, because soon he found himself at the finishing pose, panting and breathing heavily. he slumps forward to lie on the floor and rest for a moment to reclaim the oxygen his lungs so desperately need.

a breathless chuckle fills the room. “that was the best one so far.” yangyang perks up and rolls onto his side, looking at sicheng with sparkling eyes and harboring the request for reaffirmation at the tip of his tongue. the other just laughs and moves to ruffle his hair affectionately, making yangyang whine and pout at the touch. he needed a partner for the dance showcase that would make up for half of his grade for the semester, so he went to sicheng, a senior with the mutual friend ten. over the course of café meetings just sitting in the pleasantly relaxed ambience and internalizing the beats and flow of music, lazy afternoons spent drafting and screening through the twists and turns that would make up their performance, and moonlit nights of practicing in cooled sweat and harsh breaths, they’ve grown a lot closer and sicheng has found his place in their little friend group of seven. yangyang definitely sees him as an older brother figure at this point, someone he could go to when he’s bottling something up, but maybe it’s because sicheng is a fairy too and he’s the only one who just gets it.

“we’ve gotten the moves and the flow, we just need to work on execution and synchronization.” sicheng smiles and sits up, stretching lazily and spreading his wings wide. “i think that’s enough for the day, we should rest up.” yangyang nods and rolls over to lie on his stomach so that his wings can flit about to take him to the corner where his belongings are. he folds his wings behind his back as he haphazardly pulls on an oversized hoodie. he then checks his phone for a moment to see the time as he slings the duffel bag over his shoulder.

“oh, i’m not gonna eat yet by the way.” yangyang starts, sicheng raising an eyebrow in response. they always went to eat together after practice before parting ways, it was just more convenient that way when it comes to timing and company. “i have to go back to the dorm and help kunhang with his portfolio.” and he regrets elaborating because in that instant, sicheng’s questioning look morphs into a knowing one.

“i see how it is. have fun on your date.” he smiles and teases, and yangyang just rolls his eyes exasperatedly in response.

“it’s not a date. dejun is there to help too, you know.” he sticks his tongue out but it’s futile because sicheng’s grin only grows wider at the statement. before his nosy dance partner can get another word out, he slips out of the practice room and into the hallway, waving a quick goodbye as he does so before eventually making his way out of the performance arts building.

he decides to stop by his shared dorm room for a quick shower just to wash the sweat and fatigue off his body, dropping off his bag and letting his phone charge on his bed along the way. when he finally feels fresh and clean again, he haphazardly pats his hair dry with a towel then slips on some denim ripped jeans and a loose plain white shirt. eyeing a simple printed jacket last minute while combing his hair a little, he throws it on then rushes to the arts building, slowing down as he reaches the silent hallway. he walks past labelled doors until he reaches it, knocking tentatively for a moment before opening the door to the photography studio kunhang said they’d be working at.

immediately he’s greeted by a stunning sight that makes his breath catch in his throat. dejun is poised in such a way that his side profile is accentuated, his jawline and cheekbones strikingly defined, in contrast to his soft silver hair falling gracefully in front of his eyes. under the soft golden lighting, his arms are bare and glistening with what yangyang thinks is the oil from a bottle on the side of the room amongst other common props, their exposure courtesy of the denim vest and black tank top hugging his torso. bronze bracelets framing dainty thin wrists sparkle as he shifts to lean back comfortably on a film director chair, an elbow on a knee propped up so that one laced brown boot is on full display, along with showcasing how the fabric of his black pants stretch taut around his thighs. his eyes are focused and sharp, one eyebrow quirked upwards ever so slightly in a clearly playful manner much like the smirk his pale pink lips are formed into right now; he’s obviously facing the wall opposite him but his gaze is so captivating it makes yangyang a little weak in the knees even when it isn’t directed at him.

then there’s the telltale _snap_ of a picture being taken, and as the light of the flash fills the room then dies down his attention shifts to being directed on kunhang much like a seamless transition in the movie that is yangyang’s life from his very own eyes; he’s kneeling down in front of dejun, fiddling behind the camera when he has a face that says he really should be in front of it instead. black strands of hair frame his princely features which are scrunched up in deep thought as he scrutinizes the image he just immortalized; metal rings glisten in tandem to the way he taps his fingers on the floor absentmindedly in concentration. eventually he stands up, dusting off his pristine white pants a little and he’s suddenly cast under the amber, honey glow which only proves that he should be the subject of his own craft. he looks positively godly bathed in yellow, black collared shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows wrinkling as he moves to adjust the lights’ intensity and color so that they reflect on the backdrop so perfectly that it makes the previous setup feel so wrong despite yangyang initially not having noticed anything off about it. his passion and attention to detail shine through clearly and it’s nothing short of admirable; in that moment yangyang understands that kunhang won’t ever be the model because he absolutely loves being the photographer.

“yangyang!” he snaps out of it when dejun speaks, and yangyang hears the smile in his voice before he sees it on his face. “how was dance practice? we borrowed some of ten’s makeup by the way, it’s just on the table over there.” any and all traces of the coy dejun toying with the camera from just moments ago is gone, and what’s left is the regular endearing and caring dejun that yangyang is definitely more used to. he nods and smiles back fondly at both of them and walks over to said table. kunhang is still adjusting the set, tinkering with the lighting and switching props around until he’s sated, so yangyang can take a little extra time to make sure he looks good for the shoot. he’s going to end up on a portfolio, _on kunhang’s portfolio no_ less, of course he should put a bit more effort.

“it was good.” he replies offhandedly as he sifts through the bag to look for some basic foundation and concealer, maybe some eye shadow and lip tint if he feels like it. “we got the choreography down, we just need to work on how we perform it.” he pauses in his highlighter application to wave at kunhang as he passes by to grab a plastic white camellia from a vase full of vibrant artificial plants, getting a gentle pat on the head in return. “what did you guys do today?”

“kun and i started working on a new song.” dejun plays with the coarse corolla of the imitation kunhang places in his hand. “we finally finished the last one!” yangyang and kunhang give small victorious cheers, knowing how many restless nights their roommate went through for that one; several mornings spent waking up to him passed out on the couch with scribbled papers strewn all around the small coffee table in front of him, some with cohesive lyrics and others with just vague inklings of ideas but all told a story in their own way.

“i only have this shoot for the day, so i didn’t do much.” kunhang steps back and hums in satisfaction at his handiwork. he snaps a few more shots of dejun in the new environment, this time smiling softly as he sifts through the soon to be additions to his ever growing portfolio. “yangyang, are you ready?” he nods at that and stands up, moving to stand in front of the camera and lights like his roommate had been just a moment ago.

the director chair they were using for the first shoot was put away, and in place there’s a plain white rectangular table littered with an assortment of flowers. as a fairy, yangyang’s soft spot for nature is soothed by this gorgeous arrangement and he immediately sits on the table; his hands sink pleasantly into the softness and a small smile breaks out onto his face involuntarily, and kunhang feels compelled to perpetuate the candid display with a press of the capture button. the resounding _click_ fills yangyang’s ears like a gunshot and he freezes a little in embarrassment, looking at the lens like a deer caught in headlights. another _click_ rings clear and yangyang groans, looking to the side as dejun stifles a laugh and kunhang grins, simply taking another picture.

“you’re so beautiful.” he whispers breathlessly as he reviews the last image but it doesn’t go unheard, of course since it was never meant to. they deserve to know what’s running through his mind at the moment.

“what?” yangyang mutters quietly, the petals crunching from his flustered grip are as pink as his cheeks are going to be at the end of this ordeal. he isn’t sure if he heard that right. he decides to just pose the best he can, pulling his legs up the table so that he sits with them crossed then puts one elbow on his calf and leans his chin into that hand so that he’s relaxed while staring at the wall. his other hand plays with the plants, tracing patterns on them in nervousness.

“in this set,” kunhang starts, still snapping a few shots every so often. “you look so… perfect. like you fit in it just right.” he shifts angles, moving the camera closer to his face in the process and yangyang holds his breath even if he doesn’t need to. “you look like you’re at home. like you’re exactly where you’re meant to be, sinking in a bed of nature’s beauty. it’s like you’re in your element and this is the first time i’ve seen you so comfortable with anything. i’m sorry, i don’t really know how to describe it. i’m not good at these things.” _bullshit to that last one_ , because it’s like he sifted through dejun’s thoughts and just recited the poetry he’s waxing for the scene right in front of him. dejun sits up from the corner where he’s starting to organize and put away ten’s makeup and walks over so that he’s right next to kunhang and in the front row seat for the set.

“you look so delicate too.” dejun continues softly, so as to not disturb the rest of the shoot but he doesn’t realize he has their full attention anyway. “you look like… a porcelain doll. your features are so soft, your skin looks flawless and that small touch of highlighter really makes you look ethereal. that light blue eyeshadow looks otherworldly and really brings out just how big your eyes are… and you’re already so lithe but right now you look even smaller since you’re drowning in that jacket and in a sea of petals.” he steps forward while yangyang looks on curiously, then picks a small pink calla lily from the table to put it behind yangyang’s right ear; the gesture messing up blonde roots fading into pastel purple locks just briefly, dejun’s fingertips brushing slightly against his forehead as he moves to fix it and it’s gentle but the contact feels like it burns.

“see, your hair color just makes you look even more unreal!” kunhang’s giggles cut through their little bubble, and they realize he’s still capturing images endlessly. yangyang manages a small smile through rosy cheeks as dejun chuckles along, and they pose together a bit more. eventually the excitement cools down, and that’s when dejun turns to look at him again with something burning in his eyes.

“i’m not lying by the way. frankly, you’re just like… a fairy.” he breathes out finally and yangyang makes a sharp intake of air. “our little fairy roommate yangyang.” kunhang pauses for a minute as if to contemplate the sentiment, then nods in agreement.

“i…” yangyang isn’t sure if his heartbeat is going at a mile per minute because of the compliments, or because of the fear of discovery, but he is sure that he can’t be here with them any longer or else he’s going to combust. “thank you. that was really nice.” his mind is reeling and he can barely think beyond the default gratitude. he can’t believe they really did that, to his poor little weak heart no less. when he puts his feet on the ground he realizes just how light he really feels from all the emotions messing with his head. he’s such a mess it’s ridiculous. who knew he would be so weak to them despite crushing on them for months now? “i just remembered have to go to sicheng for something real quick. i’ll see you guys later at the dorm. kunhang, is it okay to leave?” the instant he gets a nod, he bolts out, thankful that he didn’t bring anything along otherwise he would really just forget about it in his rush to get away.

once he’s lying face down on his bed, his entire being flares up as the gravity of the situation dawns on him. _just what the fuck was that all about?_ he really needs to be more careful, they were scarily on point with their comparison of him with a fairy but first of all… he screams into his pillow fruitlessly because it’s burned into the back of his eyelids. everything that transpired replays in his head like a broken record, like the movie that was his life was dunked in a pool of water and all it can show is a repeat of the past forty minutes; he’s left there for hours lamenting his fate accented with images of kunhang cast in a golden glow and the lingering feelings of dejun’s touch against his face.

every single picture kunhang took today made it to his portfolio, of course.

-

2.

yangyang is seething. absolutely fuming. he’s never, ever going to let them get the best of him next time. that entire shoot was just a massive embarrassment for him; showering him with praise, toying with his overthinking tendencies, and giving him a heart attack when they accuse him of his true species all leave his poor self just flustered, malfunctioning and defenseless under their combined assault. he’s going to get them back, eventually, he swears. he’s going to make them feel his shame, tenfold. no, hundredfold. kunhang is going to be the one who can barely respond to a flurry of words, not yangyang. dejun is going to be the one recoiling from traces of contact, not yangyang. he’s definitely, undeniably going to─

“enlighten me for a moment. just why, exactly, are you telling me all this?” ten’s deadpan, monotonous comment cuts through yangyang’s thought process like it’s butter, which he just realized was being unwillingly proclaimed to the spacious art room which they occupy thankfully on their own. all his pacing around had brought him near the left corner of the room, with unused easels and stools stacked against it neatly. walking past diagrams of shadows and color theory put up on the peach plain wall, he grabs one of the stools with a slight drag against the washed out hardwood floor; he carries it towards the center of the room where ten is already sat, softly kissed by gentle sunlight streaming into the room through the swaying gray curtains. a small fan brush fits snugly in the right hand which is paused mid-air, halfway to the pristine canvas already stained with an array of greens and blues as he stares at yangyang pointedly and seemingly unamused.

yangyang sits down with a huff and groans before putting his head in his hands, hiding his face as if his emotions aren’t already an open book displayed to ten in the most obnoxious manner possible. “i just… want to get back at them, okay?” he mumbles, sounding uncharacteristically small which makes ten’s demeanor soften a little. “i’m pretty prideful, as you already know. and pretty childish too. i know i’m being stupid but they always do stuff like these just because i’m younger! it’s only by a year… so i want to prove i’m on their level too and not just some baby that’s weak to praise.”

“oh yangyang,” ten starts, setting down his brush for a moment to soak in the cleaning water and rinse the vibrant reds away before patting his back gently. in yangyang’s moment of vulnerability, he misses the mischievous glint in ten’s eye. “i understand your sentiments, i really do, but you have to accept that you aren’t the confident gay you think you are.”

yangyang shrieks at this and pushes the other away, who immediately erupts in a fit of cackles. god, fairies may be little shits, but incubi are truly evil. beneath ten’s godly sculpted face, lithe slender body and teasing catlike smile, he hides something you definitely shouldn’t mess with. he’s one of the highest ranking officials in hell, after all; it’s honestly a miracle that kun has him wrapped around his pinky finger or else he would be impossible to control. yangyang doesn’t want to push his luck after already literally pushing him, instead he just pouts sadly until the literal demon next to him starts fawning over him. bless fairy genes for making him so charming and easy to forgive. which reminds him…

“i should prank them a little! it’s not like they’ll stay mad at me for long, or even get mad in the first place.” yangyang suddenly stands up and throws his fist in the air victoriously, grinning at ten’s startled look. “i’ll just… well, dejun asked us to listen to some of his songs later today and give our opinions on them. so maybe i’ll play something on the speakers as a surprise. something embarrassing… or maybe a meme…” his grin only grows wider when ten mirrors it with one of his own, but a little more sinister. most incubi are usually lazy and uncaring when it comes to anything outside of sex, but ten has a special penchant for messing with people in any way possible. and this? this is most definitely right up his alley. a stroke of inspiration graces his mind, as if ten dipped a brush into a tub full of humorous mischief then painted it right on his brain. he voices his idea tentatively, enthusiasm returning when he sees ten cackling once again. oh, it was on, alright. this plan was given the green light and he’s going to go full speed into it.

the same scheming grin of his resurfaces exactly four hours later, when he and kunhang are following dejun into the recording studio he has booked with kun. when they’re right outside the door they can vaguely hear a muffled melody, indicating kun already arrived and started recording something. yangyang thinks he’s rather clever. after all, a siren working in the music industry is practically unstoppable. contrary to popular belief, it’s not very easy especially when you have to make sure your siren’s song remains just a song and doesn’t actually bring any impending doom. it’s admirable, really; to be able to listen to a heavenly voice as smooth and sweet as honey, to be able to feel it tugging at your heartstrings as if they weren’t trapped inside four walls without them bringing up any sense of unease or danger. despite being friends with kun for as long as he knew ten, he hasn’t heard him sing much so he relishes this rare opportunity even when the words are practically indecipherable.

“i don’t get why kun doesn’t want us to hear him sing. it’s not like he’s bad at it or anything, it’s literally the exact opposite.” dejun points out after a few seconds of standing around, a small pout forming on his lips as he wonders about the reason behind that. kunhang just makes a noncommittal shrug at this, seeing as he’s not really one to question weird behavior and oftentimes just rolls with it. yangyang mirrors this gesture, despite knowing that kun is just being caring as always and is worried that one day he’s going to lose control over his song and end up actually causing tragedy. personally, he believes in his capabilities but he’s seriously worried kun’s going to pop a vein from worrying too much about everyone so yangyang just does what he can to make him feel at ease. dejun eventually drops it, ultimately not thinking much of the whole thing; before long the door to the studio opens and kun is stepping out, looking tired yet fulfilled as he slings one backpack strap over his shoulder. however, he perks up in recognition immediately when he sees the three of them standing near the door.

“oh, hello! i just finished, i hope you didn’t have to wait long.” kun smiles sheepishly, with a certain charm that for once isn’t the direct result of being a supernatural creature. dejun quickly returns the smile and reassures him that they just arrived. after a few more minutes of small talk and promises to hang out soon, kun bids them goodbye before mumbling something about needing to go to ten and make sure he isn’t overworking himself. that’s… kind of hypocritical coming from him, but whatever. he’s learned not to question their relationship.

they finally stepped into the room, the darker color palette soothing to the eye along with the cool blue hues of the fluorescent lamps lighting up the room. soundproof foam boards litter every inch of the walls, matching the grey of the carpeted floor beneath them. dejun starts setting up his laptop on the desk near a big soundboard and a keyboard piano, cute stickers of various animated cats and dogs littering the surface of its back. it was always kind of funny to see him with a straight face, completely focused on working on lyrics and compositions on his laptop when it has such adorable decorations; on top of that, he’s usually bundled up in a blanket, sinking into the couch looking like a a small fluffy mass with sweater paws sticking out and typing furiously. brushing the mental image out of his head, he notices kunhang fiddling with the speakers so he looks around and gathers chairs scattered around the room for them. his heart warms up as they smile and voice their gratitude; he _may_ have ended up a little flustered when his side presses up against dejun’s who’s sitting in between them, therefore proving ten’s point about him not being as confident as he thinks he is, but _hush_ dejun’s about to play his songs.

the sound of soft strumming fills the silence; it’s minimal and calming, like a lullaby from one’s childhood. yangyang feels like he’s about to fall asleep to the gentle sound when it abruptly transitions into a magnificent symphony with booming bass and crooning synth. it catches them off guard; it’s like they were following a simple trail of breadcrumbs, then were suddenly tossed into a fantastical world where everything they could see was worthy of a thousand sonnets each. it’s like discovering something for the first time then falling in love immediately. it’s so terrifying, so new, but it’s also so very inviting. they want to let themselves go on this journey, they want to explore the new territory they’re so very enamored with. the more they experience, the more they crave for it. the beats and notes take their hands and guide them around in a dance they’ve never done before yet comes so naturally to them. they don’t question where they’re being taken in the midst of the harmonious tune, they simply let the adrenaline rushing beneath their skin take the reins and dictate their path in life.

it’s so wonderful. it’s incredible how dejun crystallized the feeling of passion so perfectly in musical form for the world to listen to. it’s like he poured himself out there for all to see; his love for his craft lay bare without hiding behind a veil of lies. even without a single lyric, he told the tale of indulging in something you truly enjoy. even without a single word, he conveyed tens of thousands of them in such a brief amount of time.

“wow. that was amazing.” kunhang exhales sharply, barely literate; yangyang can only dumbly in agreement. before he can stop himself, his previous thought process spills and he watches as the descriptive narrative tumbling out of his mouth makes blood rise to dejun’s cheeks. kunhang coos at the other’s suddenly bashful demeanor, and follows suit in waxing poetry about the composition. dejun’s speechless, not knowing if the ridiculous over-the-top praise has even a lick of truth in it. despite that, the flame in his face doesn’t die down no matter how hard he tries.

“stop it!” his protest doesn’t have a single bite to it, not when his voice his trembling, not when he’s trying to hide his reddened face. “it’s not even that good… you’re just saying that to mess with me.” he mumbles, averting his gaze to the way his sneakers sink into the fluffy carpet. the commotion dies down and yangyang’s heart aches at the way one of the most precious people to him don’t think of themselves that way. he wants to do something about it, to hold him close and tell him how much he truly means to him, how much every part of him lights up his life in their own little ways. he wants to wipe away all of his doubts and help him see just how incredible he is.

so he does.

“it really is spectacular. don’t sell yourself short like that.” his teasing grin softens into a small sincere smile as he reaches out to grasp at dejun’s nape to guide him into facing him. any previous apprehension fades at the vulnerability in dejun’s eyes, and he keeps eye contact determinedly. “we may love to mess with you and get you all flustered, but it doesn’t mean things like these aren’t true. don’t forget that, okay?” his hands move to trace his thumbs over dejun’s cheekbones, cupping his face once the other finally nods weakly. kunhang takes dejun’s comparatively small hands into his own, shifting his attention towards the other boy who hasn’t said a word yet for the past minute of yangyang reassuring dejun.

“talented! incredible! hardworking!” kunhang starts chanting and yangyang laughs then eventually joins along, the flurry of still ridiculous but now clearly genuine praise making dejun shriek and threaten to leave and never let them into their shared dorm ever again. despite that, he’s still smiling. he’s still letting himself be sandwiched in between them. he’s still leaning into the way yangyang cups his face gently. he’s still letting kunhang intertwine their fingers and squeeze his hand. the compliments get increasingly ridiculous once again and poor dejun looks like he’s about to combust, scrambling over his laptop to prevent any further riling up. it’s like the plan succeeded before it even started. yangyang almost feels bad for what’s about to happen.

instead of the next song, what plays is the signature opening notes of _“never gonna give you up”_ that ring clear throughout the room. the plain betrayal and confusion… he can’t help but giggle at those expressions of theirs, practically giving away that he’s behind it. well, on second thought, maybe it’s also because of the way he’s holding his phone. you know, the one that has the speaker cord attached to it now. yes, that is the very same speaker cord he took while kunhang was trying to get a rise out of dejun. no, he isn’t even hiding anything anymore.

“really now? in 2020?” dejun rolls his eyes fondly and moves to pause the song. they didn’t see it coming, so it was a win for yangyang regardless. he got to see a flustered dejun and rickrolled them, plus he’s petty so he’s satisfied with that already. nothing can bring him down for the rest of the day at this point.

except then kunhang suddenly tackles him to the ground and he squeaks in surprise, bracing himself for the impact that never comes. kunhang’s arms loops around him so that he’s cushioning his spine, head and neck; it’s practically a hug and their chests are pressed together but yangyang doesn’t have time to think about it when his sides are being poked and prodded incessantly. _he’s fucking ticklish, damn it!_ he cackles at the touch, squirming and tossing and kicking the air but kunhang, _the little fucker_ , just laughs at his misery and sits up on his stomach to hold both his wrists above his head so he’s practically powerless. dejun joins in a moment later and sits down next to them, mostly just using what just transpired as an excuse to tickle their youngest. a few minutes pass by and kunhang finally rolls off him; yangyang is just sprawled helplessly on the floor trying to catch his breath, face flushed and chest heaving. he glares at the other two who are just sat next to him just playing with the sleeves of his hoodie, their original goal for coming here long forgotten. after his fifth huff and whine, dejun finally acknowledges him with a shit eating grin.

“you know, with all these small pranks… you’re so mischievous, you really are our little fairy.” ah fuck, there it is again. yangyang’s half sure that they actually know he’s a fairy at this point. kunhang merely echoes the statement, which only stains his rosy cheeks deeper.

he officially gives up on restoring his dignity.

-

3.

“what are you doing?” it’s barely nine in the morning and dejun walked in on yangyang sprawled on their linoleum living room floor, sweating and panting heavily while the music from his phone fills their ears. in the background, they can hear kunhang stirring and stumbling around as he struggles to start the day. there aren’t any windows to let any sunlight filter in, so they’re only illuminated by the small wall light they use when it’s the dead of night and they’re watching movies but don’t want to murder their eyesight. dejun frowns at this. yangyang was dancing around in a dimly lit room? what if he hurt himself? he really needed to be more careful.

“practicing for the showcase, can’t you see?” yangyang huffs in response. maybe it’s not so obvious, not with how he’s like a motionless starfish barely able to shift his head to make eye contact with dejun, definitely not with how he’s as pale as a sheet and how his knees are trembling slightly from overexertion even if he’s lying on his back.

“no, i can’t because you look like you’re about to pass out at any moment.” dejun snaps back, deadpan and monotonous before his tone softens. “you really need to rest, dumbass.” he moves to sit next to yangyang, pressing pause on his phone to plunge them into silence with only the bustling streets of the slowly waking city accompanying them, then pulls him closer so that his head is resting on dejun’s lap. he lets his fingers easily card through his hair, playing with the sweat matted locks and humming a vaguely familiar tune.

“i can’t. this has to be perfect.” yangyang closes his eyes at the feeling, letting himself relax under the reassuring gesture. dejun flicks his forehead lightly at the statement, a whine at the tip of yangyang’s tongue when he hears kunhang stepping into the living room and pausing abruptly in his tracks.

“he’s overworking himself again?” he asks even when it seems like he already knows the answer. regardless, dejun nods and the other clicks his tongue in disapproval before moving over to sit next to them. he leans against dejun’s right side and takes one of yangyang’s hands, drawing miscellaneous shapes on them absentmindedly. he doesn’t know why, kunhang always seemed to like holding their hands any time he could. it’s rather charming, actually. “you know, there’s plenty of time before the showcase. you even have this afternoon to practice, and every single afternoon for the rest of the weekdays! that’s already a lot. do us a favor and not work outside of those times, okay?” he intertwines their fingers and squeezes his hand a little; yangyang tries not to dwell on the gesture and instead huffs and pouts petulantly, refusing to give an affirmative.

“you didn’t answer yet.” dejun states the obvious and yangyang only gives a noncommittal hum.

“yangie. c’mon, it’s just a favor.” kunhang pokes his side and he squirms to get out of his touch. he’s not promising them anything, that’s for sure.

“liu yangyang.” ooh, his full name, how scary.

“yangs?” he liked _yangie_ better, it sounded much cuter.

“hey, idiot.” okay, now dejun is just taking the opportunity to insult him. fuck you too, dejun.

“fairy?” nope, not even that one is going to change what’s set in stone.

“i’ll tell ten.” he snorts. now that’s just pointless, ten is weak to him with or without fairy charms.

“hmm… babyboy?” yangyang’s breath hitches in his throat and his eyelids flutter open so he can stare at kunhang, wide-eyed. butterflies are having a fucking blast dancing around in his stomach, and blood rises to his cheeks for what feels like the nth time this week. it’s like his head was dunked in cold water and the frigid coolness was an unhealthy dose of reality checks. the atmosphere in the room is suddenly heavier, stifling with tension and anticipation for any follow-up statement. anything to fill the dead air would work right now, if only to stop how his mind puts the audio feedback of the past ten seconds on loop.

“now that i’ve gotten your attention, promise us to not overwork yourself, okay?” kunhang smiles reassuringly and squeezes his hand again, and _oh_ now that he’s wide awake he realizes exactly where he is, exactly who’s cradling his head and exactly who’s playing with his fingers. the atmosphere isn’t that suffocating anymore but now he’s so painfully aware of the warmth and closeness that his head feels light and his thoughts are swirling around in an indecipherable mess. even then, he still has pride. even then, he still scrambles to pick up the remains of his dignity,

“but─” he struggles to refute anything coherently and he sounds a lot more squeaky than he usually is.

“babyboy.” yangyang’s jaw immediately clamps shut at dejun’s use of the petname. from the way kunhang eyes dejun’s proceeding smirk knowingly, he knows they know how he feels about it. he also knows that they’re definitely not gonna let him live this down. “no buts. we’ll take care of you from now on, okay? just like you do for us.” his hands trail down from playing with yangyang’s hair to cupping his cheeks, their warmth radiating and searing against his palms. his thumbs rub against the most vibrant scarlet visible on his face, and yangyang gulps at the way this works in tandem with the way kunhang fiddles with his fingertips delicately. he feels so small, so coddled and cared for; it’s honestly kind of terrifying how weak he is to them in any way, shape or form. he nods ever so slightly in response then closes his eyes and wills calm to his hammering heart.

the comfortable silence that they dwell in isn’t something new, but it’s charged with an unfamiliar electrifying feeling. they don’t bother to move, instead dejun and kunhang just lean against the foot of the couch so they can relax too. yangyang’s previous state of panic dissipates into a warm fondness that, while soothing, still keeps him on his toes. it’s like something shifted, like the world is suddenly cast in a whole new light and he’s terrified but also thrilled at the notion of uncertainty. he taps dejun’s thigh and gestures vaguely in the direction of the couch; thankfully the other understands and reaches over to grab his phone then hand it to him. he scrolls through twitter with them watching, occasionally commenting on what they see on the screen. this goes on for about an hour or so, just them in the walls of their dorm’s living room cuddled up and watching various videos together. eventually yangyang grows restless in his laxity, the urge to feel the burn in his muscles after hours of vigorous practice settling in his bones; he starts fiddling and shifting frequently which makes dejun frown.

“come on, let’s go cool down for a bit.” again, yangyang turns his head to make eye contact with kunhang and look at his soft smile. “how about coffee at the café then we walk around for a bit before dropping you off to practice?” that doesn’t sound so bad. yangyang nods at this while dejun hums his affirmative. somewhat reluctantly they pull each other up, and if anyone notices any lingering touches they don’t mention it. dejun and kunhang just go into their rooms and start getting dressed for the day, while yangyang goes to the shower to freshen up.

thirty minutes later they’re stepping inside the café near the university, the moody orange lighting striking the predominantly coral interior just right to form a warm, welcoming ambience. it isn’t so busy at this time, just a handful of people mostly working on their laptops or eating with friends. yangyang and dejun pass by birch shelves with miscellaneous ornaments and mini blackboards with colorful chalk drawings and writings to go to the furthest corner with a worn circular leather couch and a low oak coffee table. a potted plant tickles yangyang’s waist as he passes by it to sit down next to dejun while kunhang goes to make their orders. approaching marble counters and glass display cases, a wide smile breaks out on kunhang’s face as he sees that yukhei is on shift. yangyang can hear small snippets of their lighthearted cantonese bickering, seeing kunhang look at the selection of desserts while yukhei works on their drinks.

the sound of medium roasted beans hitting glass joins the white noise of muted chatter and rhythmic typing. yukhei takes the glass bowl off the kitchen scale when it hits the right weight then puts it through a grinder to get it fine, brass portafilter glinting in the light as he taps it on the table a few times to even the mountain of ground coffee out before pressing into it with a tamper once. moving over to the espresso machine, he plugs the portafilter into it and sets a timer; a deep caramel colored double shot slowly filling three cups before separating into thick creamy beige layer sitting atop the dark chocolate brown coffee. a beep signals the end of the extraction, and he presses a button then whisks the cups away as the pleasant aroma wafts around the room.

yukhei pours some steamed milk into one of the cups from high up, slowly moving the two containers closer as the milk becomes frothy foam that he leaves sitting atop the now light brown cappuccino. he carefully drags a toothpick through the foam to etch some simple latte art, smiling in satisfaction when he finishes. for the next drink, he takes a fresh bright lemon from a fruits basket and cuts it into circular slices, squeezing a bit of its juice into the espresso shot and garnishing with a wedge on the side of the cup before stirring in a bit of sugar. finally, he moves to the back and returns with a tub; he takes a glass bowl with pretty patterns and scoops some ice cream into it before pouring the shot straight into it, the hot coffee melting the surface of the cold vanilla ice cream making swirls of white form on the brown liquid. he walks to the refrigerated display case and plates the rest of their desserts before putting them all on a grey tray for kunhang to carry to their table.

dejun stands up to make space for kunhang to sit down in the middle of both of them. he slides the tray onto the table as he settles down, tableware clinking lightly against one another as they each grab their respective orders.

“hey.” kunhang’s hand reaches across the table, poking at yangyang’s to get his attention. yangyang gives a muffled hum of acknowledgement through his mouthful of fruit. “can i have some?” he ignores the way he audibly gulps when kunhang starts playing with his fingers, eventually intertwining them once again.

“no? get your own.” yangyang sticks his tongue out playfully, making kunhang pout in response.

“please? i wanna try something new, i’ve never had chocolate covered strawberries before.” his lower lip juts out and he drags out the last syllable of each sentence.

“maybe you should’ve gotten something other than just coffee ice cream soup, then.” dejun gestures to the mostly eaten mess of coffee and melted ice cream.

“ _affogato_ sounded fancy okay?” a whine slipped its way onto his voice as he turns to face dejun.

“so you ordered something without actually knowing what it is?” dejun scoffed, only making kunhang pout further. after a minute he caves in and sighs. no one could resist kunhang for long, especially them.

“just open up already.” dejun’s reaching out to grasp his chin and guide kunhang to face him, other hand holding a spoonful of the custard and already poking at soft, slightly parted lips. yangyang watches as a pretty sheer pink paints kunhang’s face, his knuckles turning white as his fingers scrunch up the fabric of his sweatpants. he’s frozen in place momentarily before he tentatively parts his lips further, allowing himself to indulge in the smooth cold creamy texture melting on his tongue. with bated breath, they wait.

the subsequent bright grin cuts through the awkward tension like butter; it’s just so easy for kunhang to lift their spirits with a little lift of the side of his lips into a smile. it’s the same sight they’ve seen a million times, yet the way butterflies flutter in their stomachs never changed. it reminds yangyang of the soothing zephyr running through the boundless fields, breeze cool and comforting with the way it kisses his skin like the warm rays of sunlight. it puts him at ease, much like kunhang himself. falling into his arms and spilling the contents of his bottle of dark thoughts was always so effortless. looking up through tear filled eyes to pretty lips spilling gentle reassurances while arms tighten around him made him fall hard. it’s so pretty, the way he always finds a way to break down their walls and let them confide in him. it’s so pretty, the way he pulls them close and draws little nothings on their skin with the small flames brought upon by his touch. it’s so pretty, the way he strives to cheer them up with the littlest things when he senses a hint of sadness. it’s so pretty, the way his voice is laced in adoration to praise them whenever they doubt themselves. it’s so pretty, just how open and positive and caring he is.

but kunhang’s smile was always the prettiest, and yangyang just wanted to see more of it.

so it’s not a surprise when a few seconds later he’s pressing a single chocolate covered strawberry to kunhang’s lips too, looking away from the surprised expression that draws on his face. thankfully mercy is given as kunhang just wordlessly accepts the offer, humming contently at the sharp sour and sweet notes cut by the rich bittersweet chocolate. yangyang waves off the way he squeezes their intertwined hands in gratitude, ignoring the way his own cheeks turn pink at the sight.

the rest of their time passes by relatively uneventfully, and before they know it they’re walking the concrete path surrounded by shedding deciduous. the fresh air helps clear his head, but it’s nothing compared to how eased he is by them pressed against either side of him. they make their way to the front of the performance arts building and he’s about to go inside, but then fingers curl around his wrist and pull him back.

“don’t forget to eat this later, okay? you always forget to take care of yourself when you’re focused.” the view of kunhang beaming amidst the falling leaves is gorgeous, the shadows of the branches cast on his face do little to dim the sparkle in his eyes. kunhang was always like home, like the comfort of the hearth one seeks in the midst of crowded streets, like the inviting heat of a fireplace during winter. the warm hues of autumn look best on him but yangyang is too preoccupied staring at the wrapped croissant being pushed into his palm.

bread is used as a protection charm against fairies, but of course they don’t know that. he probably looks stupid, frozen in place and almost recoiling from the contact he’s normally happy to receive.

“babyboy,” _oh._ he forgot about this. he makes a small squeak when dejun’s hand finds its way on the top of his head, running his fingers through the soft locks. he doesn’t know if he’s burning up because of the affection, or because of the offending food item sitting in his hand. maybe it’s a mix of both. “don’t worry too much, i know you’ll do great.” dejun’s takes his hand away and the feeling lingers more than it should, then kunhang plants a chaste kiss at the back of his hand and _oh_ maybe it really is just the affection. he smiles shyly and nods, the action almost too small to catch.

regardless, they bid him goodbye, waving as they walk off while he stands there dumbfounded. he attempts to compose himself before stepping into the building, ready to go to the room they booked when he sees sicheng sitting in the lobby and looking through the wide glass windows. when he meets yangyang’s eye, he wears the biggest shit eating grin and glances at the bread in his hand.

well, fuck.


	2. Chapter 2

4.

it’s the night before the showcase.

well, more accurately, it’s like an hour past midnight. he honestly can’t even tell anymore. the exact time doesn’t change that he’s still the same as he was hours ago, lying down on their living room floor after a grueling practice session. practice… he’s practiced so much. he’s spent countless hours burning the video of the choreography behind his eyelids, countless afternoons ingraining the moves into his bones. he knows the beats and rests of the song by heart, and he’s weaved the twists and turns into his core. he should know the dance better than anyone else, he made it after all.

yet he still doubts muscle memory. or rather, was it that he doubted himself instead?

deciding he’s gotten tired of staring at the same ceiling for ages, he gets up so he can drink a glass of water. glass clinks against ceramic plates when he takes it out of the dish rack and puts it under a dispenser, the water barely having time to settle before he’s pulling the container to his lips to down all of its contents in record time. navigating through the darkness was a piece of cake with his heightened senses, and it pays off to be agile and nimble. he was like a feather, gliding by effortlessly. it also meant he at least wouldn’t disturb dejun and kunhang when he was out there going through a sleepless night, but maybe he spoke just a bit too soon.

distantly, he registers the flick of the light switch ring clear through the dead silence. familiar arms snake around his waist and he leans into the touch. it’s a good thing he doesn’t need to glance over his shoulder to see who it is, because he then feels the weight of a head leaning on it.

“go to sleep. isn’t it the big day tomorrow? why are you still awake?” kunhang whispers against yangyang’s skin, hot breath tickling his sensitive ear and making tingles run up his spine.

“i could ask you the same.” yangyang whispers back, like anything too loud would break their little bubble of serenity. “also it’s technically later, not tomorrow.”

“always the little nitpicker, aren’t you?” yangyang only grins, knowing full well kunhang doesn’t have to see it to know it’s there. “time works weird past midnight. anyway i was working on the portfolio, but i expected you’d be here. i know you too well.” the unspoken question is far too obvious.

“nothing’s bothering me.” he huffs, crossing his arms defensively.

“i didn’t even say anything yet.” yangyang can hear the smile in kunhang’s voice. “but something clearly is. you always get like this when you’re nervous. you always stay up like this, alone. you close yourself off and become distant for a little.”

and he’s right, but that’s not a surprise. kunhang was always attentive when it came to people. he always managed to catch the most subtle of signs. he always knew about their little quirks and habits. he always knew exactly what to do to bring the most joy to their day. he always knew when dejun was about to be overwhelmed by his workload, or when yangyang was crumbling under the pressure he put on himself.

the real surprise is why he still bothers, for someone like him.

“yangyang,” kunhang chimes in, suddenly stern. “you do realize you have a habit of thinking out loud, right?”

“oh.” he laughs humorlessly. yeah, ten has mentioned it once or twice. “well, shit.” it elicits a sigh out of kunhang. yangyang can’t tell if it’s more fond or exasperated.

“i bother because i care.” a reassuring squeeze. the back hug is even tighter now, but he finds he doesn’t really mind. “because i care about you and your stupid little overthinking self. because i’m worried about you whenever you go off on your own. because i want that pretty smile to never leave your face. because both dejun and i want you to know we’re always here for you, that you don’t have to deal with it like this and that we’re always ready to pull you back from that shell of yours if you’d let us. would you?”

it’s so sincere, he’s rendered speechless. he doesn’t know if he’ll choke on sobs or his words, so he just gives a silent nod to avoid both.

“thank you, baby.” if hendery notices what he just said, he doesn’t mention it therefore neither does yangyang. it feels like far too much for his poor heart to handle at the moment, kunhang’s positivity melding with his own negative thoughts to make an overwhelming mess. “speaking of dejun, let’s go to him right now. i think we all need sleep.”

“he’s still awake?” kunhang hums his affirmative and yangyang frowns a little. if anything, dejun needed sleep the most out of them. deciding to do something about it. he’s about to slip out of the hold when he’s pulled back, flush against a warm chest.

“don’t go.” kunhang mutters against his nape. “let’s just stay like this as we go there.”

“dummy, it’ll be hard to walk back like this.” it’s more of a weak retort than anything, because yangyang still lets them waddle around. it takes forever to get to the light switch and turn it off but when they exchange little giggles and lingering touches, it doesn’t feel all that long at all.

“holy shit it’s pitch black, how did you even manage to move around without turning on the lights at all?” kunhang squints, trying to make his eyes adjust to the dark. yangyang guides them along effortlessly, barely experiencing any difficulty.

“fairies have no problem seeing in the dark.” he quips with a playful half-truth.

“oh, so you’ve accepted it?” kunhang bites back, like always. bickering again, like always.

“if only to humor you, yes.”

“acceptance is such a good look on you, though.” yangyang doesn’t know how this was intended to make him feel, but he’s too giddy than he should be.

“it’s not exactly rare.”

“if it’s so common, then you might as well accept being our babyboy.” a sharp inhale. _of course he brings it up._

“never.”

“you say that, but i can tell you like it.” and so he does, but yangyang decides not to add fuel to the flame, they’re already standing in front of dejun’s bedroom door anyway. he knocks tentatively in place of an answer, opening the door when he hears a muffled _‘come in!’_

dejun’s normally perfect hair is all messy and out of place. his normally pressed and prim wear has been traded out for a worn oversized hoodie. his normally sharp, alert eyes are replaced with dazed ones. he’s out of his normally proud, confident posture and is curled in on himself sitting in front of his laptop looking halfway to slumber already. he looks so different from usual, he might even call himself a mess if he looked into the mirror. he might even say he’s a completely different person like this, and to forget what they see of him beyond midnight.

all that and he still takes yangyang’s breath away every single time like there’s barely any difference.

“why are you still awake?” dejun breaks out into a yawn at the end of his sentence, making yangyang’s heart clench in his chest. he brings himself and kunhang to sit on the bed next to him. a quick glance at his laptop screen tells them that he’s working on more songs. kunhang goes to save the projects and put everything away on his desk in preparation for bed. dejun often forgets to do both when he’s all drained and barely awake like this, and of course kunhang remembers this little habit of his. kunhang always remembers, because that’s just how he cares.

“mmm… showcase…” yangyang curls into dejun’s side. with that one word, it’s incredible how with one word, both of them can understand what he’s trying to convey.

“what’s wrong, exactly?”

“i just… i don’t know if i’ll do good enough.” something spills and he can’t tell if its his words, his tears or both. “i know i made it, but what if i forget? what if i mess up? what if something goes wrong?”

“you can’t prevent everything. there’s always a possibility. but…” dejun holds the sides of his face, making him look up into his eyes. “if you worry about it too much and let it get to you, things might turn out worse or you just end up not enjoying yourself. as long as you give it your all, everyone is proud of you. don’t worry too much, okay?” if kunhang knew how to ease his heart and raging emotions, then dejun knew how to ease his brain and rampant thoughts. there was always so much sense, so much logic behind his words that yangyang couldn’t help agreeing. dejun tames his wild imagination the same way kunhang reigns in his emotions.

the dip of mattress right behind him when kunhang has finally cleared their sleeping space brings him back to reality. he only nods in response.

“words, babyboy. i want to hear yours.” yangyang whines unconsciously because of kunhang and looks away, hiding his rapidly reddening face in his hands. he can hear him coo at him when he falls back onto the bed and curls in on himself. dejun chuckles before following suit, laying down in front of him side by side. yangyang would count his eyelashes but he’s done that millions of times already, when they’ve laid down like this countless times talking about everything and nothing. puffs of hot breath are almost tangible on his lips when dejun speaks.

“well?” the proximity really isn’t helping him here.

“i won’t. worry too much, i mean. i won’t… do that so much anymore.” he struggles to get it out coherently.

“you’ll go to us if you’re overthinking again, right?” dejun’s eyes are piercing, cutting straight into the depths of his soul.

“hngh…”

“right?” it’s firmer this time.

“… yeah. i will.”

“that’s good. proud of you, babyboy.” one of dejun’s hands comes up to pat his head as he says that, and yangyang whines once again.

“can you not?” the fingers playing with his hair come to a pause.

“why?”

“it’s too much…” he mumbles, hesitant.

“but do you actually want us to stop?”

the way he remains unspoken doesn’t really do much to refute what they already think. by the time he’s opening his mouth to say something, even just anything at all, it’s already too late. dejun smiles sweetly, knowing his silence speaks volumes. kunhang laughs lightheartedly and falls onto both of them, squishing yangyang’s cheeks with little regard for how he’s squashing them under his weight.

“mmm, get off…” dejun groans, attempting to push kunhang off him.

“nope.” being the little shit he is, kunhang crawls off yangyang to fully lay on dejun, wrapping his arms around him and hugging tight. this is nothing new, the frustration on their regular victim’s face

“kunhang, i can’t breathe.”

“of course. i’m breathtaking, after all.” yangyang doesn’t even attempt to stifle his giggle, the same mirth gracing hendery’s smirk.

“not like that, obviously. there’s a difference.” dejun rolls his eyes in exasperation. there’s a mischievous glint in kunhang’s eye, like he takes it as a challenge of some sorts.

“is there really if i do something like this instead?” kunhang gets up so that he’s hovering above dejun, arms on either side of his face with eyes half lidded as they look down on him. yangyang swears he can see dejun swallow as kunhang moves to cup his face and tilt his chin upwards so that they make eye contact. the tension is thick and it almost feels like the other two are in their own little bubble, lost in each other’s everything and yet…

for some reason, it doesn’t feel like he’s intruding at all. he doesn’t feel left out, not when dejun’s fingers are still tangled in his pastel purple locks the same way kunhang’s other limbs are tangled with his own. he never feels out of place knowing they’re just an arm’s length and a few words away. he never feels out of place knowing they just have to look over at him and they’ll sweep him up into their arms too. he never feels out of place knowing they’ll always find a way to include him in everything they do.

kunhang breaks his train of thought with a wink, then starts laughing loudly when dejun shrieks at the gesture and finally manages to force him off. the subsequent exaggerated gasping for air has yangyang cackling, rambunctious joy rampant until the adrenaline dies down and the exhaustion of working until too late catches up to them. kunhang settles down in between them, slotting in seamlessly like a missing puzzle piece. the effect is immediate, yangyang slips under his arm and lays his head on his chest while dejun curls up to his side. one of dejun’s arms reach over to wrap over yangyang’s waist and hold kunhang’s hand, killing two bird with one stone. kunhang faces yangyang and sighs into his hair contentedly, pressing a feather light kiss on his scalp while squeezing his and dejun’s intertwined fingers.

it’s peaceful. it’s comfortable. it feels like home. it feels no different from falling into boundless fields, the afternoon sun gracing him as he relaxes. the aroma of sweet flowers was no different from the lingering traces of the faint scent of laundry detergent and of being freshly showered. the warmth of sunlight was no different from the body heat surrounding him on all sides. it’s just like all the other times he let himself forget all the troubles of life, worries carried away by the gentle breeze running through the freshly cut grass.

yangyang sleeps better than ever, to the sound of kunhang’s steady heartbeat and to the feeling of dejun tracing random doodles on his skin.

-

5.

the bulk of yangyang’s day went by in a blur, except the early morning.

he wakes up to dejun’s gentle voice calling from the kitchen, as warm as the sunlight kissing his skin and casting the room in a golden glow. at the mention of breakfast he starts blinking away the bleariness of slumber, eyes adjusting to his world around him when he realizes he’s sprawled almost entirely over a still asleep kunhang. yangyang’s cheek is pressed into his chest, one hand gripping a fistful of the wrinkled fabric of kunhang’s shirt while their legs are tangled with each others’. he raises himself up on his elbows to shake him awake too, basking in how beautiful kunhang is even when the day has just barely begun. messy black hair falls perfectly over half lidded eyes as his hands feel around for the sheets to pull it off them. he shifts to sit up, voice deep and raspy when the first word that slips past his dry lips is yangyang’s name.

it makes yangyang fall in love just a little bit more.

a few minutes later they’re stumbling outside of dejun’s bedroom, following the aroma of a freshly cooked meal into their small dining area. they should honestly probably get a bigger table but they don’t mind when their knees brush up against each other, everything less likely to get all over the place and make a mess when there’s little proximity between them as they laugh and share their food. in the middle of eating dejun turns to yangyang, shifting to face him fully and tapping him to get his attention. he looks over to see their eldest giving him an unnaturally soft look, frame full of fondness while the hand on yangyang’s shoulder is gripping it firmly as if it would help get the message across clearer. it’s then that the biggest, brightest smile graces dejun’s face as he wishes him luck for the showcase later in the evening.

it makes yangyang fall in love just a little bit more, once again.

after that moment, time seems to speed up. for the rest of the morning he was in the final rehearsals, blocking and marking to practice the flow of the event and their own positioning onstage. sicheng had been smiling the whole time even as he invited him to go eat lunch, like he was ready and excited to be performing again. it was the complete opposite of how yangyang felt, but then again it’s not like he was the one who had a mere two minute dance performance making up half of his grade for the entire semester. so he worried for both of them, even if he didn’t need to. even if right now deep in the late afternoon, while ten was styling his hair and kun was putting on the slightest touch of make-up on him they were both chastising him for doing so. if he were being honest, he wasn’t fully paying attention to anything around him until the sensations stopped and he was left floating around in the space of nothing but earthshattering reality.

the ice on the clock has melted, and time has just started to run normally.

there’s a rhythmic ticking when there aren’t any clocks or watches nearby. he thinks it’s just a timer in his head, counting down every single second to his inevitable doom. it’s only a matter of minutes now. the lighting was cast, the stage was set, and a sizable audience was just behind the barrier keeping them hidden. he doesn’t want to see what feels like the world waiting for his every move. he doesn’t want to look into the crowd and see their other five friends sitting there, expectant and excited for something he might royally fuck up.

even with his eyes closed, he imagines dejun and kunhang with ease. somehow it both calms him down and makes him more self-conscious at the same time.

sicheng is first to step into the spotlight, marking their entrance. well, more literally he rolls into it, barely making a sound even against the hardwood floor. the opening notes play gentle, guiding the way sicheng glides along the choreography so smoothly like he’s water. water is subtle, fluid and graceful as expected. he might not have the most explosive stage presence right off the bat, but once he catches one’s eye they can’t ever look away. they’re left to watch, transfixed at the sight in front of you. he’s always so satisfying to look at, so elegant; the way he controls his momentum is outstanding and he almost looks like a figure skater on an invisible sheet of ice. it's just so captivating, how he flows, how he can go from soft streams barely licking the shoreline to powerful waves crashing against it. right now he scales like the trickle of a stream pouring into a rapid river rushing into the boundless ocean as the sound escalates into a booming crescendo, and yangyang finally joins the fray.

the loud crooning hum matching his sharp and erratic movements. it’s like organized chaos, embodying yangyang’s entire being into the soul of this performance. he follows not too far behind sicheng, like droplets of rain chasing each other down a car window. the attire they’re dancing in is surprisingly heavy and restricting with the elaborate layers just grazing the ground, but there’s nothing the rushing current can’t force its way through. they power through like rapids cutting a channel through the rock around it, hitting the first sequence’s final segment like the crashing of a waterfall. when sicheng eventually leaves yangyang to his solo for the next part, the water flowing through his veins evaporate away into his element.

wind is adaptive; it’s flexible and smooth. it can seep into the tiniest cracks and finds its way in, much like how yangyang’s charisma seeps through every crevice of people’s bleeding hearts and turns them fond for him. funnily enough despite representing air, he seems to be taking people’s breaths away far too much. it’s like he’s melded with the music, like he’s weaved the dance with the beats of the song and they’ve become one. his signature style bleeds through the perfectly executed choreography yet still blends in with it seamlessly, coating the uniformity with his own little spice in life. the audience also isn’t able take their eyes off him, but this time it’s for an entirely different reason. it’s not his stage presence or charisma but instead the way he carries along so effortlessly, not missing a single step or hesitating to do anything.

the storms of his performance never faltered, confidence never allowing them to cease their havoc. it’s funny. the crowd that had seemed so looming, so terrifying had melted into nothingness. the eyes he were so terrified of just minutes ago feel like nothing. the wind carries with it conviction, and with conviction comes indifference. in face of the roaring gale that was sure of its every move, each and every person were just another few entities in the spacious room.

but never dejun and kunhang. no matter how much the turbulent hurricanes cut down the world around him, they would remain untouched and unharmed. even in the faux magic of blurring the flow of time, there was always something that remained crystal clear.

_it was them. it was always them, always for them._

and so he curls in on himself at a standstill in the song, tension filling the atmosphere as he stays there unmoving. taking a bated breath, he makes sure to stare straight into their eyes. they’re expectant, waiting for him to sweep them away. what else could he do but deliver?

he unfurls outward, shedding the layers of excess fabric as he stands taller and prouder than ever before. he trades the warm earthy brown for strikingly pristine white, sheds the bulk of them to reveal flowing thin sleeves and sequined hems. there’s a collective gasp in the audience when his wings spread outward through the slit in the back, the translucent membrane leaving a shower of golden glitter to rain down. he’s like a flower in bloom, a butterfly breaking out of its cocoon. he’s tapped entirely into his element, dancing in the breeze as the fairy he truly is. it’s exhilarating, the sensation of pure raw freedom is intoxicating and yet… despite everything yangyang’s attention is still on dejun and kunhang, gauging their reactions carefully.

pleasant surprise looks good on them too. dejun’s eyes are wide and he’s frozen in place while there’s a wide smile slowly breaking out on kunhang’s face. he’s glad to know that the gimmick in their show is well received, a little coy way to make use of what they already have.

sicheng joins in, a constellation of twinkles dotting his own wings when the light shines on him. they dance in tandem, light and nimble on their feet like the zephyr just barely kissing the blades of grass as they run through them. the wind whispers and howls, stirring up a vicious cyclone to blow people away. this was the culmination of months of hard work, buckets of sweat and tears, and hoards of effort. yangyang had nothing more to offer but the explosive expertise of his very creation, like a balloon being filled to its limit and finally bursting into tiny scattered pieces.

soon they strike their final pose, panting after the exertion. yangyang’s eyes are bright and full of mirth, even through the darkness closing in on them to mark the end. as the show goes on, they change back into comfortable wear backstage.

“yangyang!” is the first thing he hears when he steps out of the building after the entire program is over, head whipping over to see dejun waving at him from a bit further away along with the rest of their friends. before he can make an effort to move towards them, kunhang is rushing over to wrap him in a warm hug. adrenaline wears off while exhaustion catches up, and he finds himself melting into the hug to ground himself. the rest follow not long after, and soon all of them are tangled up in a group hug with smiles on their faces and laughter rolling out of their mouths.

“you did so well!” kun grins and ruffles yangyang and sicheng’s hair affectionately when they all break apart, both of them simultaneously groaning lightheartedly at the act. he starts ushering them to his car, insisting on driving everyone to a small celebratory dinner. of course he would, he’s just the type of person to do that. they’re not exactly complaining, though. along the way, they talk excitedly about the performance.

“you got it on video right? righttt?” ten drags out his last syllable as he slides up next to dejun, knocking their shoulders together as they walk the concrete path to the university parking lot.

“of course i did. i wouldn’t miss yangyang’s first showcase for anything.” dejun scoffs, kicking a small pebble to the side. the gravel crunches under their feet as they stray from the path to save time.

“ah, yangyang was amazing! he made that! he danced that! he did that! that’s my baby!” ten would be almost embarrassing if yangyang wasn’t relishing in all the praise. like any sane person, he likes having his hard work acknowledged.

“i was so blown away, that was the first time i’ve seen you and sicheng properly dance and you’re both incredible!” it was just then when kunhang said it that yangyang realizes he never really did anything more than marking in the confines of their own home. just lazy weekends of him testing trials of rough choreography in the kitchen while kunhang lies on the couch playing on his phone and dejun sits at the table writing lyrics. the beeping of the car when the key is pulled out to unlock it brings him out of his reminiscing.  
  


“the wings were really cool! i didn’t expect them at all.” yukhei beams as they step into the vehicle, sitting next to sicheng in the middle row before kun starts the car and drives off. kunhang settles between yangyang and dejun at the very back, humming a familiar tune. the laidback chatter is comfortable accompaniment to the sight of trees and infrastructures zipping by.

“they looked so realistic, right?” the knowing smile on kun’s face is mirrored by three more. in the glint of the streetlights reflected off the windshield, they look secretive.

“ten worked really hard on making them.” sicheng smirks, poking at the said man in the passenger seat before fondness fills his voice. “and the rest of our wear too. it wouldn’t have been as stunning without him.”

“are they still with you? can we see them again?” yukhei’s eyes sparkle in excitement, and dejun and kunhang visibly perk up too. their human friends are so full of intrigue, it’s endearing.

“they’re too bulky to carry around so we just left them there for now.” they all visibly deflate at sicheng’s words, and yangyang can’t have that. kunhang is sitting right next to him so he takes his hand in his, knowing just how much he likes that kind of contact. he looks straight at dejun from his side of the row.

“someday you will, don’t worry.” it’s a promise, but maybe it runs even deeper than the surface level. maybe it’s a way of telling himself he should tell them someday.

suddenly the car slows down into a full stop, marking that they’ve reached their destination. they make their way to the restaurant, it’s nothing too fancy but is instead rather homey. the small space and worn down wooden seats really remind him of home, like he’s eating with his family all over again. it’s like those times when he was a child enamored with the wisps of smoke rising from a cauldron and seeping into the starry skies, his parents cooking outside their four walls and in the endless grassy plains bordered by deciduous forests. well, even if he’s not at his childhood home, it’s not like he’s not eating with family right now.

“i’ll order!” yukhei offers as they look through the menu, orders being listed down as quickly as possible. there’s barely any actual discussion, having been closely knit for so long that they know the ins and outs of each other’s diet tendencies. kun hands yukhei some money before he walks up to the counter, forgetting that it was the type of service where he had to carry back all their food by himself.

“i’ll go with him.” dejun says as he stands up to follow and with a quick scan of who’s left sitting, yangyang realizes what this means for him.

“i’ll hel─”

“no, you need to rest.” kunhang cuts him off with a reassuring smile that doesn’t exactly ease his worries. it’s not that he doesn’t appreciate the consideration, but he’s literally begging for it to be for anytime than now. _kunhang just be selfish for once, please._ “you just performed and this is your celebration. we’ll handle it, don’t worry.” yangyang watches hopelessly as the humans walk away and he’s left with the impending doom of confrontation.

“so…” kun starts, a lilt to his voice.

“shut up.” they ignore his snappy response, far too amused.

“a little birdie told us some interesting things.” ten smirks, propping his elbows up on the table and leaning forward with his chin on his hands. yangyang can see he’s been watching way too much anime recently.

“i hate you, sicheng.” he rolls his eyes lightheartedly as sicheng gasps in exaggerated fake hurt, hand clutching at his chest and everything.

“after all we’ve been through? how could you?” man, he’s even got the crocodile tear slipping down his cheek and everything. sicheng should really be an actor.

“that doesn’t mean you should be a snake!” they all pointedly ignore him, even when he sticks his tongue out in childish petulance.

“so you’ve been growing closer, haven’t you?” yangyang makes the mistake of following where kun gestures at, and he quickly averts his gaze back to the wooden surface of the table. the little chips and marks do little to distract him from his racing heart; kunhang and dejun may have far too much of an effect on him, but this time he thinks his palpitations are more because of getting caught.

“little dates, lingering touches, weird staring sessions…” it’s like ten is reading it off a list or something. knowing him, he probably has one honestly.

“what does that have to do with anything?” yangyang can’t tell if his voice breaks or not. he’s being cornered and he’d really rather just dwell in his own feelings for hours rather than actually do anything about them.

“has it ever occurred to you that maybe they like you too?” wow, ten _really_ just cuts straight to the chase, doesn’t he? somehow, it’s surprising that he isn’t playing around with this more.

“has it ever occurred to you that maybe i don’t like them in the first place?” it’s a weak retaliation, but it’s all he has.

“now that’s a lie and we all know it.” sicheng scoffs, taking out his phone to scroll through it.

“they look at you like they’re your whole world.” kun is uncharacteristically serious, the smile wiped off his soft features. “now the question is: are they yours too?”

“is that even a question?” yangyang breathes out, more sure of his answer than anything. the smile is back, and the tension in the air dissipates.

“if it isn’t, then why haven’t you done anything yet?” ten has a point “is it fear? what’s there to be afraid of?”

“i’m not exactly human, am i?”

“that’s a ridiculous excuse. they looked absolutely thrilled with you at the showcase.” sicheng rolls his eyes. honestly, yangyang would too if he saw himself right now.

“if you wanted acceptance, you already have it. that’s the real reason you went with that concept, is it not?” ten isn’t wrong. yangyang had spent hours thinking, mulling over all the ideas laid out before him. they were all great, all very interesting concepts to entertain and yet there was always something missing. frustrated, he was about to give up until a single word caught his eye.

metamorphosis. a critical point in one’s life, expressed through visuals with those visuals being their very own wings. a dip of his toes into the pool of something new, a journey of self-discovery whose climax would be the highlight of their show. it was symbolic both in the grand scale of the big picture and in the finer, more personal details. this was his debut showcase, his step past the gateway of opportunities to prove himself more and more to the world of dancing. on the other hand, it was a personal hurdle to jump over; it was a way for him to overcome all his fears and flaws.

more importantly, it was an excuse to see how the people dearest to him would react to his true form.

“if you’re scared of change…” sicheng finally looks up from twitter for the first time in a few minutes, trailing off at the sight of dejun and kunhang giggling as they grab the trays before turning back to face the table and sporting grins brighter than the sun when yangyang meets their eye. “i don’t think anything too bad would happen.”

“i’ll wait for now.” there’s a sharp, stern look on ten’s face that he doesn’t really want to fuck with. “but for the fairy thing, i’ll tell them tonight.” against his better judgment, he mutters that under his breath as a promise just when the other three get back with their dinner.

“tell who what?” kunhang blinks, confused. dejun quirks up an eyebrow in question and yangyang can only copy how everyone else starts to dig into their meals, barring a swift wink at his roommates.

“i’ll talk about it later.”

-

+1

the moment yangyang steps outside his bedroom, he knows he's fucked.

he ran straight into the bathroom the moment they arrived home from dinner, once again avoiding any hint of confrontation. it really isn’t his strong suit, so he can only hope they get distracted or forget all about his strange burst of confidence in the twenty minutes of him taking a quick shower to wash off the sweat of exertion. unfortunately, that doesn’t seem to be the case when he tries to grab a glass of water after putting on a fresh new pair of clothes.

kunhang and dejun were clearly waiting for him, with the way they’re sitting on the couch and perk up at the sight of yangyang gracing their living room. he freezes in his tracks, not expecting them to actually remember such a small gesture but then again they really do seem to care for him to that extent. they stare at each other for about half a minute of tense silence before yangyang attempts to book it back to his room. dejun immediately shrieks in protest while kunhang is quick to get up and follow after him. yangyang realizes too late that maybe, _just maybe_ running back to a confined area isn't exactly the brightest idea if he wants to escape them but he's already trapped; kunhang was already blocking the door with dejun trailing close behind, so he just jumps back into his bed and hides under the covers while turning to face the wall. it's not going to make them go away, but it is going to help his poor, poor heart that's beating way too quickly from everything. he might have to get that checked lest he not keep his feelings in check.

“you said something about talking to us earlier?” yangyang can feel the dip on the mattress behind him as dejun’s voice sounds closer. god, he really should’ve just kept it as a promise to himself rather than get their hopes up because he doesn’t think he can do this right now.

“yeah, no, forget i said anything.” he huffs, blowing the wet strands purple hair off field of vision. he doesn’t really know why he did that if the view he was trying to see clearer was just a blank wall.

“but i’m curious now…” thanks to enhanced senses, he can hear kunhang step forward to sit on the floor next to his bed. he ignores the way a hand immediately comes up to rest on his arm and squeeze it.

“well, too bad, because i’m not saying it.” he’s adamant, but if there’s anything notable about the three of them it’s that their persistence is nearly unrivalled.

“we could guess?” dejun offers, and he’s rather good at laughing off everything so he might just do that until they make a kind of believable guess that isn’t going to affect anything so much. yeah, that’s his plan now. isn’t he such a quick thinker?

except what is any of that supposed to do when the blanket is being ripped off him as he’s pinned down? dejun is still sitting cross legged on the edge of the bed but his torso is hovering over yangyang’s, elbows digging into the soft mattress as both his hands hold his wrists firmly on both sides of his head. yangyang can’t read his eyes when silver locks fall over them, so his gaze trails down to his opening mouth.

“you like us, don’t you?” a sharp inhale marks the groundbreaking reality that crashes down on them at the moment.

“w-what do you mean?” is the only thing that comes out of his mouth. it’s as eloquent as he can be right now, cornered by the victims accusing him of the crime of love. he doesn’t exactly make for a good criminal now, not with how he struggles to even pass it off smoothly.

“we can tell, you know. and we’re sure you can tell we like you back too.” kunhang pipes up and the grip on one of yangyang’s wrists loosen as dejun brings a hand up to slick back his hair, his piercing eyes boring holes into his soul. kunhang takes the opportunity to intertwine his fingers with his own. he always had a thing for playing with people’s hands, studying the calluses and prints like they meant the world to him. in a way, it reflects how kunhang makes the effort to learn as much as he can about the people he holds dear to him.

“but still…” yangyang turns his head to the side, refusing to stare at anything other than the wall.

“still what?” a slight pause, a small sigh. “baby boy, can you please look at us?” a hand grazes yangyang’s chin and forces him to look back up at dejun. like he said before, this is a sight he’s seen a million times already, but why does it still affect him so?

“you like us.” it’s not a question but yangyang gulps, nodding ever so slightly as his flight response goes rampant in his system. “and that’s okay, because we like you back.”

_oh._ maybe deep down he’s always known _and it was even said out loud just a minute ago,_ but there’s something so different about it being said as dejun lowers onto him slowly; his breath hot on yangyang’s lips as he stays still, waiting for any form of an affirmative.

and yangyang answers by leaning up ever so slightly to close the distance himself. it starts off hesitant, teetering on the threshold between restraint and letting oneself be controlled by love until dejun pushes them over that edge. the hand that isn’t gripping yangyang’s wrist trails down to grab a fistful of his shirt as he deepens the kiss as much as physically possible. he gets rougher, eventually nipping a little at the skin of yangyang’s lips to elicit a gasp out of him which allows dejun slip his tongue in. however right as they’re about to hit the peak, dejun pulls back the pace and instead lazily swirls their tongues together as he explores every centimeter of the cavern. shivers run up yangyang’s spine and he doesn’t know if he’s grateful for them slowing down, or if he yearns for more. he does know, however, that he doesn’t want any of this to stop and it shows when he whines at the loss of contact. thankfully, kunhang has already started to crawl up the bed to take dejun’s place on him.

if dejun kisses hard and rough then kunhang, on the other hand, kisses softly yet coyly. the kitten licks against swollen lips are supposed to soothe them, but they honestly just rile yangyang up even more. everything is constant, like the hum of the heater on cold winter nights. he never goes past his lips or any threshold, never escalates the affection and somehow that’s even more maddening. wanting more than just the same pressure on his mouth, letting his imagination fill the gaps while never being granted reprieve… it makes him writhe and squirm even through the shuddering breath he lets out when they finally part. he can barely even think.

“you like each other too right?” he was supposed to say something a lot more substantial, but his mind blanked at the last second. at least it makes them laugh breathlessly, a beautiful sight on messy hair, red cheeks and swollen lips.

“of course. i like yangyang,” dejun turns around, smirking as he throws his arms over kunhang’s shoulders. he plays with the hair at his nape while he closes in to whisper: “and i like kunhang too.”

“what a coincidence,” kunhang smiles, never faltering even as his arms snake around dejun’s tiny waist to pull him even more flush against his body. “because i seem to like yangyang and dejun a lot as well.” never had yangyang felt more at home while sitting in front of two people and watching them kiss. the sight that would make most burn with jealousy instead sparks the fervid flame of love in his heart, overflowing with warmth at the most beautiful view just inches in front of him. he’s rendered speechless just drinking in the sight of how their tongues tangle and hands run over exposed skin. he’s even more speechless when they part, a thin strand of saliva connecting them as they both turn to him with a dazed look in their eyes.

“and i know we all already know, but i’d like to hear it straight from you.” dejun’s voice is raspy, and that makes him feel things.

“there’s nothing straight about this─” kunhang starts before getting a finger to the lips to hush him, and it looks like he’s really debating if he should take it in his mouth or not. regardless, yangyang takes a deep breath.

“… i like you both.” muttering it out loud… it lifted a weight off his shoulders that he never even knew he had. it was like the fiery blaze of passion within him finally had its cage broken, and it lashed and burst out until it was nothing but a steady fire.

“that wasn’t so hard to say now, was it?” they pull him to sit up so they can wrap him into a hug. he snuggles into them for a minute, reminding himself that this is all real and that this really is happening. he doesn’t know how long they stay like that, just content in each other’s’ arms. he’s right where he wants to be and he doesn’t think he wants more than this, all he needs is just them and their body heat surrounding him as much as they can. all he needs are them with him, pressing light kisses to every part of him.

“that wasn’t even what i was trying to say in the first place…” yangyang finally admits, and for a moment they all pause.

“wait, then what was?” instead of telling them outright, he decides to just show them. it's much easier that way, honestly.

ignoring the confusion on their faces, he turns his back to them before taking off the oversized hoodie he’s wearing right now. he can’t see their expressions, but he can hear them both gasp as his wings spread outward in front of them. he sighs in relief, the freedom at letting his appendages free running deeper than just from the constraints of his own clothing. after all, he’s finally let his true self be properly known.

“what.” dejun sounds so flabbergasted, it’s almost funny. fingertips trail down his bare back that make his hairs stand up. “can i?” comes in a hesitant whisper and he nods, unable to say anything more in fear of breaking the delicate atmosphere.

having his wings touched is a new sensation. it’s definitely not too weird, but he’s never had anyone run their fingers over the glassy chitin. dejun is gentle, even as he repeatedly touches the seam where the base of his wings sink into his skin like he’s trying to process that it’s real.

“wait, so you really are a fairy!?” kunhang breaks the tension, making yangyang laugh with his enthusiasm. he nods in response, ready for the barrage of questions. “can you fly?”

jumping off the bed, his wings flutter to suspend him in the air for a few seconds. he’s careful not to hit his head on the ceiling but he nearly fails when he gets distracted by the look of childlike awe and wonder taking over kunhang’s face. it’s adorable just how impressed he is.

“wait, so the glitter was also from you?” kunhang asks when he lands, nimble feet barely making a sound as he walks over to sit in front of them once again.

“uh huh.” again, he demonstrates with a slight of the hand that makes sparkles rain down before dissipating into nothingness.

“that’s so cool! wait, what about… iron? doesn’t that hurt you?” how does kunhang know so much already? did he look this up before or something? that’s honestly not that surprising anymore.

“it itches actually. like bread.” he still remembers the way red paints his skin every time he even comes close to any of those. “it’s not life threatening anymore thanks to modernization, but it’s still quite annoying.”

“WAIT i remember now! it’s a really common warding technique. so you’re basically mildly allergic to bread? i remember giving one to you just a few weeks ago… i’m sorry if that hurt you, babyboy.” kunhang hugs him tight and plants a kiss to his forehead in apology. maybe it isn’t so bad to have them worry over him.

“it wasn’t too bad actually. don’t worry about it.” of course, they do anyway.

“I DECLARE NO BREAD IN THIS HOUSEHOLD!” kunhang pounds his fist on a pillow like it’s a gavel and he’s the judge. it’s so very amusing, honestly. “what else do you have?”

“a penchant for mischief… heightened senses…” he trails off, struggling to think of more things that set him apart from humans. he’s already stated the obvious.

“oh, so that’s why you see so well in the dark! this all makes sense now!” kunhang’s radiant smile dies down when he looks over to see dejun still frozen in place. “uh, wait… dejun, you haven’t said a word in ages… what’s wrong?”

“no, nothing’s wrong, it’s just…” dejun shifts in place, cupping yangyang’s face in both hands as he examines his features like he’s committing them to memory. “he’s now _our_ little fairy boyfriend yangyang.” soft smiles break out on all of their faces, and they chuckle as the exact same memory plays back in all their minds. from the photo shoot to now… they’ve really come full circle, huh? it’s almost unreal, but then again so is yangyang’s entire species. dejun’s hands move down from the sides of his face to his shoulders, leaving a trail of fire on the exposed skin. the other two gulp, not knowing what to expect as they travel further downward.

yangyang shrieks as he’s being tickled, giggling endlessly as the fingers at his side refuse to stop. in his incessant squirming his wings end up slapping dejun in the face and he squawks, losing his grip on him which allows him to slip away. he flies off, laughing as they get a fistful of glitter to the face while he makes his short-lived escape.

well, a bit of mischief can be forgiven. he is their little fairy boyfriend after all.

_“wait, does this mean sicheng is a fairy too?”_

_“yep, it’s why the dance concept worked so well.”_

_“how many more of you are there?”_

_“if by fairies, then there’s a few more at university. but if you mean close to us, then kun is a siren.”_

_“honestly, i’m not surprised. he sings really, really well.”_

_“oh, and ten is an incubus.”_

_“he’s a WHAT now!?”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was such a ride wew, im pretty happy with how this turned out :000 still can't believe this was originally meant to be like 2.5k words long... i went SO off track. this was super fun to work on, and i hope you all enjoyed it :DD ill be working on a lot more xiaojun hendery and yangyang centric fics definitely skjdhfs
> 
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